The Seven Steps to Closure (20 page)

Just then, a small group of people appeared around the corner of the building and ran for their lives up the street towards the reporter, who appeared overjoyed at his luck. The sound of gunshots could be heard as the reporter beckoned to them: one fellow, braver – or perhaps more voyeuristic than the others, scuttled towards him.

‘Can you tell me what’s going on?’ the reporter asked him.

‘We heard gunshots so we hid in the bar.’ He stifled a sob and continued. ‘We could hear them moving towards us, so we broke the window with a chair and climbed out.’ He stopped and looked nervously over his shoulder. ‘You should get out of here,’ he informed the reporter, before racing off.

‘So far nobody has claimed responsibility for this terrible attack,’ the reporter whispered.

Jessie flipped open his phone and stared at a new text. ‘It’s the Lashkar-e-Taiba stupid,’ he informed the reporter.

As if on cue, the reporter pressed a hand up to his ear, ‘This just in,’ he said urgently, ‘the Pakistani based militant organisation Lashkar-e-Taiba have just claimed responsibility for this terrible travesty.’

Jessie flicked off the television with an irritated harrumph and, stalking to his computer, switched on the monitor. As it warmed up, he looked at me and said, ‘Tara, I’m sorry, but there’s no way they’re going to let me take leave now. I’ll be covering the economic effect of this for weeks. Shit.’ He put his head in his hands.

I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. ‘That’s all right Jessie,’ I said. ‘I won’t be going anywhere for a few days I’d imagine. And then I’ll sort something out.’ A thought crossed my mind. ‘Hey Jessie,’ I said, ‘I know this is pretty frivolous considering what’s happening,’ I paused almost too embarrassed to continue, but Jessie was giving me his full attention so I finished my question in a rush. ‘Why did Matt brush me off when you told him I was married to Jake?’

Jessie looked at me for a few moments before answering. He got up and sat on the couch gesturing for me to follow.

‘Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this story?’ I asked.

‘Because you’re not,’ he said. ‘Jake, Matt and I all went to school together. We were like the three musketeers, doing everything together. We were in the same sports teams, the same classes and we hung out together when we weren’t in school. When we were in our first year of University, Gina – Matt’s sister – turned 16 and invited us to her party. She always was a pretty little thing, but by the time she turned 16 she was starting to really blossom. Unbeknownst to Matt and I, Jake started a relationship with Gina after her birthday party, and seduced her.’

I gasped and held my hands over my face suspecting where this was going. ‘He didn’t,’ I said quietly.

‘Yep, he got her pregnant and then refused to have anything to do with her. It almost destroyed her. She ended up having an abortion, which had complications. Now she can’t have children. Matt has never forgiven him and neither have I.’

‘That bastard,’ I said, surprised by the venom in my voice. I could feel a weird unravelling in my mind. It was like someone had lifted the veil fogging my eyes – had cut the ties imprisoning my mind. Suddenly I could see Jake for the manipulative beast that he was. I felt something shift inside me and realised that my desire for him had gone. In its place were feelings of repulsion and revulsion.

Jessie reached out and put a hand on mine. ‘I never told you this before,’ he said, ‘but I’m really sorry about your miscarriage.’

I sat, lost in thought. ‘I’m not,’ I finally said.

He left me there on the couch, staring into space,

drowning in my memories.

* * *

We’d been married for eight months when my period was late. I had no nausea, no tenderness, and no moodiness, so I was not suspecting pregnancy, but I did a test just to rule it out. And there they were, the two pink lines.

After the initial shock had worn off, I was pretty excited. And why shouldn’t I be? I was in love and married, and I was sure that once Jake got used to the idea he too would be excited. I spent the afternoon picturing us shopping for baby stuff; little clothes, bassinets, prams. By the time Jake got home, I had worked myself into a frenzy of excitement. I left the test on the kitchen bench with a note asking him what he thought, and then I sat in the lounge waiting for him.

‘What the hell is this?’ It wasn’t the response I had been hoping for. ‘Tara is this some sort of joke?’ He emerged into the lounge waving the test result around like some sort of weapon.

‘It’s no joke,’ I said.

He stared at me incredulously. ‘How could you let this happen?’

‘Pardon?’

‘You heard me.’ His voice went up a couple of decibels, ‘How could you let this happen?’ He enunciated each word slowly, angrily.

‘I didn’t plan this Jake.’ I felt my fantasies of shopping hand in hand for maternity clothes dissolving.

‘Like hell you didn’t. You’ve been planning this all along haven’t you? Haven’t you?’ He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me as he said it.

Ripping myself out of his grasp I said, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was an accident.’

‘Sure that’s what they all say,’ he snarled. ‘I know your plan. Get the guy, rope him into marriage, get pregnant and then have the easy life.’

I was getting upset. Firstly, he had proposed at the two-month mark. Secondly, I had been planning to go back to work at least three days a week once my maternity leave had finished. And thirdly, I don’t think being a mother is an easy life at all. From what I have seen of my sister and friends that have children, they have it far worse than me. I get to go home and put my feet up. I can skive off to the hairdressers or for a massage whenever I want. I can go out to dinner, or the movies with a second’s notice. Fourthly, I think the whole pregnancy emotional hormonal thing had finally caught up with me.

‘Jake, you’re in shock. Everything is going to be okay,’ I said, fighting back tears.

‘No it’s not. We decided we weren’t going to have children and now you’ve gone and gotten pregnant on purpose. I can’t believe you would do something so low and devious. I don’t think I know who you are anymore.’ He turned and walked out the front door. He didn’t even shut it.

I think the shock from his outburst was worse than the shock from the pregnancy. I couldn’t ever remember having a conversation that included the words, ‘We won’t have children’. I think we had said we would wait. And the thought that I had done this on purpose was so preposterous I was speechless; just sitting on the couch like a giant fish, my mouth opening and closing soundlessly, as I tried to digest exactly what had happened.

In the end I went to Nat’s. I felt I should be celebrating and I couldn’t do it alone at home with the echoes of Jake’s words going round and round in my head. Nat almost wet herself with excitement when I turned up on the front door with the news I was pregnant. That quickly turned to indignation when I told her Jake’s reaction.

‘He’s just getting used to the idea,’ I defended him.

She didn’t look convinced. ‘Come on, let’s celebrate.’ She cracked open a bottle of orange juice and we toasted my foetus. Then we toasted the glowing mum-to-be, and of course the soon to be Godmother. And although it was lovely, it couldn’t take away the sting from the fact that I should have been having a romantic dinner with my husband as we celebrated the conception of our first child.

Jake didn’t come home that night. As I waited for him on the couch, I thought about all the wonderful things he had done for me. The first time I had stayed over at his place I had gone into the bathroom and found a new, fluffy pink bathrobe with matching slippers waiting. He routinely made me breakfast in bed on weekends, and I often had flowers delivered to me at work. He showered me with jewellery, for no special reason, and often ran a bath for me when we got home from work. I was having trouble assimilating the two Jakes; the hard angry one and my doting loving one.

The first sign of problems began the next day. I had turned up to work hoping that Jake would be there, and was surprised to be told he was in court all day. I just smiled and pretended I had forgotten. When I went to the toilet at lunch I had some slight spotting. I told myself it was nothing to worry about, but I was dying to ask Trish, one of the other PA’s about it, as she had three children. I love Trish, but she has a pretty big mouth, so I was sure she would squeal, and I didn’t want to risk that at the moment. I did however make a doctor’s appointment during my lunch break for the following day.

Jake was there when I got home from work. My relief rapidly turned to dismay when I met him in the kitchen carrying a small overnight bag.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To Garry’s, I can’t be near you at the moment.’ The look he gave me spoke volumes. I was a piece of dirt.

‘Please don’t go. Can’t we talk about this?’

‘There is nothing to talk about.’

‘What, so, that’s it? I get pregnant and you’re just going to run away?’

‘You expressly went against my wishes. I never wanted children, and I still don’t. If you want me back you know what to do.’ And he was gone.

I staggered to the couch and sat with my head in my hands. An abortion? Jake wanted me to get an abortion. It made me realise that I wanted this child, but whoever that stranger was in the kitchen – the cold hard angry man, I wanted him gone.

Exhausted and utterly depressed, I climbed into bed, fully clothed, and slept until my alarm woke me the next morning.

I didn’t bother going to work that day. It was all I could do to make myself get up and pull a comb through my hair. I was tired and miserable and confused. The spotting was a little heavier, but now I wasn’t sure if I cared. Jake had left me. Part of me was sure he would come back when he got over his little tantrum, but another part was already imagining me with a crying baby – or even worse twins – in one of those big double pram contraptions. In my mind, I was walking home from the grocery store, pale and fat, with two babies and the small amount of food I had been able to afford when I see Jake. He’s sitting at the lights in a convertible sports car with his arm around a blonde skinny woman, whom I recognise off the cover of the latest Vogue magazine I had read at the checkouts. If that isn’t depressing enough, he looks up and sees me standing there at the lights trying to shut up Jake junior – who hasn’t stopped crying since we left home two hours ago, and rather than say hello, look a little guilty and ask me if I’m all right, he leans over and whispers something in the model’s ear. She looks at me and I distinctly hear her say, ‘Her?’ He nods, the lights turn green and I can hear her peals of laughter as they speed off up the road.

I know it would never happen, simply because Mum and Dad would take me in well before I ever got to the stage of poverty, but it still terrified me. And the thought that Jake would be fine without me, well it had never crossed my mind before.

The doctor took a blood test to confirm my pregnancy. The results wouldn’t be in for a few days. He also made an appointment at the hospital for me to get an ultrasound to see how advanced I was. He told me that spotting can be normal, and not to worry unless I had some cramping as well.

The cramping began that night. I hopped up and made myself a hot cup of milk with honey and waited to see what would happen. The stabbing pain started an hour later. Intense sharp pain in my abdomen, radiating up into my shoulder and neck, it buckled me in two and left me gasping for breath. I rang Natalie and then I rang for an ambulance. Dinah and Nat beat the ambulance, and found me on the floor in the lounge, clutching my stomach and crying. I wasn’t sure if I was crying out of fear of losing my child, or fear of losing Jake.

I passed out before the ambulance arrived. The last thing I remember is a gush of blood and Nat rocking me and telling me that everything was going to be all right.

I regained consciousness a few hours after the surgery. The doctors told me it was an ectopic pregnancy. They managed to save my fallopian tube, but told me that my chance of another ectopic occurring was increased due to the scarring.

Nat, Dinah, Mum and Dad were all there; but there was no Jake. Turning my face into the pillow I cried softly, my sorrow so absolute that I didn’t hear him enter the room.

‘Why didn’t you tell me she was awake?’ he demanded.

‘Where the hell were you? She needed you and you weren’t there.’ I heard Dinah, angrier than I had ever heard her. But all I knew was that he had come back and now everything would be fine.

‘Shhhh.’ I beckoned him to me and held him at arm’s length staring into his face. I wanted so desperately to hug him, and yet at the back of my mind was a niggling thought. Where the hell had he been? He should have been with me, and maybe if he hadn’t left, this never would have happened. What if his ill thoughts had caused the little foetus to get trapped? Maybe it could sense that it wasn’t wanted. I knew it was a stupid thought even when I was thinking it, but it persisted.

Tracing one finger down my cheek he whispered, ‘My God I thought I had lost you. I love you so much.’ And then he kissed me.

A little voice in my head was shrieking,
‘Well if you love me so much where the hell did you go? What was all that crap about you don’t know who I am anymore.’
But I told it to shut up. This was my wonderful Jake kissing me, and I wanted to hold him forever and never let him go.

We never spoke of the pregnancy. It was like a fragile shell that we walked around but did not touch. Sometimes I looked at it and examined my feelings. I realised that I wanted children one day, but I was too scared to mention it to Jake in case I would be forced to act on the information. So I told myself that I was too young anyway – I was only 24, and that when the time was right we would have children and Jake would be excited about the prospect.

* * *

You know when you wake first thing in the morning feeling great, then you remember something you had managed to forget in your dreams, and you feel the world come crashing down around you? That was what happened to me the morning after the bombings. I woke and stretched in my bed of cushions feeling wonderful. And then I remembered, and I felt my body tense with remnants of last night’s fear. I felt guilty for having slept so soundly. And then I remembered Matt and I wanted to cry. He hated me. He hated me because I had been married to the person he detested most in the world, and I couldn’t find it in my heart to blame him.